


take a break

by wonderbread



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Brothers, Gen, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderbread/pseuds/wonderbread
Summary: Jason always had a pack of shitty cigarettes on him. Tim noticed he usually took one out after a fight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> after a day of saving gotham from all the monstrosities that never seemed to go away, two brothers take a little break on a rooftop one cold, eerie evening. they watch the sun go down -- bloodied and bruised.

He blew out a plume of smoke and slipped the cigarette between his two bloody fingers, releasing it from his mouth. He glanced over at his younger brother. The twerp was giving him that annoyed look again. The kind where he'd wrinkle his nose and purse his lips tightly, the pinkness of them fading and whitening the longer he did it.

" _What?_ "

"Gross."

"What? Smoking?" He smirked, a deep wrinkle near the corner of his mouth made itself visible. Smile lines suited him. He only shrugged nonchalantly. "Tastes good."

"I can taste it from here, it tastes like hell."

"Oh, really?" He narrowed his eyes and examined his partner. Blood caked his forehead where he had been cut with a dirty knife. His suit was a bit torn up, but nothing penetrated the Kevlar underneath. Kid was alright. The only thing that seemed to bother him was lighting up one measly cig. "Should get that gross cut above your eye checked out, dumbo," he added.

Tim rolled his eyes. "I hate breathing in the stuff during explosions. I can't imagine voluntarily putting it in my system."

Now he wanted to roll _his_ eyes. ' _Shut up, you live in Gotham, of all places._ '

Jason hummed. He watched the tip of his cheap cigarette flicker, the ember surviving under the chilly conditions. "Fitting, then, huh?"

A sniff. "What is?"

"What you said just now."

"Always so cryptic."

Tim furrowed his brows and continued staring at the scuffed boots his 'delinquent' ( _ooh_ , so badass) brother was wearing. They were so worn at the top, the threads coming undone and the shoelaces matted with mud and specks of crimson. The wind blew towards them and he watched as the old shoelaces flitted against the leather. One of them was missing an aglet. He looked at his own pair of footwear. They were scuffed, yeah, but not as bad as the combat boots placed next to his. Jason's looked like he'd been wearing them for ten years straight, like he was always on his feet, running and working non-stop. Does he have anything else to throw on?

"I just thought... that must be where I've been in the interim. I can't imagine myself not smoking. Been doing it since I was twelve," he snorted. "Did anyone ever mention that? Sometimes I think this shit was planned out, y'know? Life was out to get me from the start, had me prepared." He shook his head, amused. "I was meant to be thrown down there. Hell's supposed to really _sting_." He thought about the close call he had tonight. Some asshole almost whacked him over the head, would have instantly killed him. Again. Where the fuck was his helmet? Rookie mistake, a stupid mistake. He let his guard down, his back turned and he was going to pay for it.

Tim frowned. ' _Oh._ ' He fiddled with a few pieces of loose thread on his cape. Some thug from earlier tore it up a bit.

"I guess whoever ran the place threw me out, though, couldn't handle me either. Because here I am. Funny, ain't it?"

"Wha... I... Sorry. I didn't know that you..."

It was silent for a bit, and the younger man looked in the other direction, not knowing what to say exactly. The view on the roof was always beautiful, and he was so used to the fog in this city. He never thought it an annoyance. Except for now. Because one; where the hell was he supposed to look in this awkward as shit moment? And two; it just reminded him of the gray smoke that his brother loved exhaling out of his lungs. His un-dead brother was opening up. To _him_.

He heard the rustling of clothing, leather against leather. Jason was probably rolling the cigarette in between his fingers. He does that a lot whenever he's in deep thought. Then there was that stench, the smell of... of...

"S'okay. Know you didn't. I'm just sayin'." He exhaled and smoke blew out of his nose. "I, for one, think it's _hilarious_." He was almost out and night was creeping up on them, nipping at their noses and fingers. He tapped the cig again and watched the ashes disintegrate as they fell off the rooftop. "What's crazy is that I remembered dying. But I don't have any true memories of being in hell. But I just know I was there. Bringing me back was punishment."

And they just watched the city, as best as they could through the haziness of the dirty, gossamer clouds that loved to wrap themselves around the towering, dark buildings.

"No."

Jason looked at the teenager next to him. He raised an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"No one ever told me you've been smoking since you were twelve."

Figures. His family was probably too scared to talk about him. Made sense. He was -- after all -- supposed to be the 'cautionary tale'.

And that was it.

**Author's Note:**

> i imagine tim and jason partnering up pretty often. because jason was already dead while tim was robin, he probably didn't get to hear much about what it was like back then. when things were more loud and brash. his hero robin is dead and he never got to properly meet him, like he dreamed of. bruce used to avoid the few questions tim aimed at him, and he'd always feel bad because afterwards he'd catch his mentor staring at his dead son's memorial in the cave, pressing a gentle, heavy hand against the glass. now, whenever there was a chance, he'd offer to go with his older brother on stake-outs.
> 
> -
> 
> dick didn't have many stories. not as much as bruce. he mostly shut up about his unfortunate brother because of the guilt. he was never there for him when the kid needed him most. he should have been a better brother. he kept telling himself he was going to work on it ( _"next time, next time... i can call him anytime, right? he's not going anywhere."_ ). he felt bad for feeling intimidated by the teen. he felt selfish for thinking about himself and not his new younger brother. he needed a father, too. he needed guidance.
> 
> he needed an older brother.
> 
> -
> 
> cassandra didn't know if it was okay to relay the stories bruce told her about the boy, who she felt, haunted the manor. it's not like she would've been able to tell the stories to dick or tim and do them justice, unless they wanted choppy sentences and lots of mumbling. who would have listened, anyway? they all avoided her. she didn't even know if she was truly a part of the family or not.
> 
> jason would have been the same age as her, had he stayed alive. that bit of information struck a cord in her.
> 
> -
> 
> i know this is short, i had to get something out. i thought about tim and jason bonding, albeit awkwardly as they both aren't the most sentimental of people. i feel like they bottle up their feelings and push people away when help is offered. tim wants to handle it on his own, he can do this. it wasn't because he was stubborn, it was mostly due to his shy nature. stubbornness was more his brother's thing. jason doesn't need the help. he never does, he says. never will. tim was never used to the awkwardness, but he had always wanted this. these moments with robin. so he dealt with it, every single time. who knew if jason was just going to up and leave, never to be seen again? he left on missions for weeks on end. one day he might not come back.
> 
> i was looking at pinterest and found pictures that reminded me of jason. lots of hipster pictures of dudes smoking. aesthetic, _oooh_.
> 
> i'm working on another chapter of _hope is the thing with feathers_. it might be a long one.


End file.
